Let It Be
by Tillie Blue
Summary: Netta Macfarland wanted to call bullshit. Weird, colorful duststorms don't just happen in the middle of a New Mexico desert; weird men don't just fall from the sky; gods and rainbow bridges don't exist; and what in the world were the Nine Realms? Honestly, Netta didn't have time for that kind of madness. She had her own problems to worry about. Pt. I of the 'Let It Be' series.
1. Chapter 1

_And when the brokenhearted people_

 _Living in the world agree_  
 _There will be an answer_  
 _Let it be_  
 _For though they may be parted_  
 _There is still a chance that they will see_  
 _There will be an answer_  
 _Let it be_

-Let It Be; **the Beatles**

* * *

Jacqueline Macfarland.

Josiah Macfarland.

Dotty Macfarland.

Kylie Manson.

Avery... _Hamilton_?

No. Not Hamilton, that was wrong. It was Avery, but the last name was being so damn evasive. What _was_ it? Why was it so hard to remember? It had been easy in the beginning, then things started to slowly slip away. It was frustrating. Netta listed off those names every single day, but every single time it came to Avery, that goddamn last name would get even further away. It was gonna have to show itself eventually, right? That last name couldn't keep running forever. It was somewhere in Netta's subconscious. Somewhere deep in her subconscious.

Leaning her head against the filthy concrete wall, the young woman let out a sigh. By remembering those names, Netta could remember her previous life. The names belonged to friends and family, people who held significance in her life. And then there was the abduction. Netta couldn't say with certainty how long she'd been in captivity, but it was enough for her to start forgetting her old life. The faces of the people important to her started to fade. Their voices long forgotten, as well. Netta's abductors made her endure vicious experiments, claiming what they were doing to her would help mankind in the long run. It didn't make sense. _None_ of it made sense. Netta just wanted to go home, to try and live that normal life she had before. Why couldn't she just _go_? She'd be so _happy_. Screw how she could help mankind, she wanted to help herself. She could break out, that was always an option. It's not like Netta was defenseless, those experiments they did to her paid off well. There were some minor physical enhancements, along with a few added traits. Putting those two together and Netta should be able to get out easily.

But the guards had guns. And plenty of other weapons useful in killing and/or tranquilizing. Netta was betting that if she did grow some balls and tried to escape, she'd be dead before she made around the corner. It was a sad thought. All she wanted was to feel the sun again, to see her family and hear their voices. Dreams were nice, though.

The sound of her cell door unlocking snapped Netta out of her thoughts. The only times her door ever got unlocked would be for experiments or physicals. Netta did appreciate her physicals, it gave her the opportunity to feel just a _little_ bit of freedom.

Lifting her head up from the wall, Netta watched as two scientists walked in – a man and a woman. Their eyes were analyzing her, studying her as if she were some kind of science project. In some ways, Netta was. Science changed her, modified her in plenty of ways. Maybe they had a right to look at her that way.

"You're needed in the glass room." The male scientist walked over and yanked Netta up from where she sat – her back pressed against the wall with her knees drawn up. Stumbling to her feet, the young woman felt the other scientist handcuff her while the other held her in place. It was almost degrading, the way the workers treated her.

"Make any sudden movements, and you'll be terminated immediately. Understood?" The female scientist looked at Netta intensely. All she could do was nod. None of the workers liked it when she spoke to them.

With that, she was led out of her cell.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

The facility Netta was being held at was somewhere in Austria, though she didn't know that. The day she'd been abducted, she had been heavily sedated. The only thing she could truly recall were fuzzy moments between consciousness. As per orders from higher ranking officials, Netta would not be allowed outside the facility, she would be isolated from other subjects and kept under constant surveillance. Any rebellious behavior or otherwise inappropriate actions would be met with punishment or immediate extermination, depending on the severity. So far, Netta hadn't done anything troublesome, though she did fantasize about lashing out. It was something that kept her entertained during slow periods.

The building Netta currently resided in had many different floors, a majority of them underground. A lot of the rooms were for meetings, with a select few for experiments, research, and communications to other bases. Netta didn't have access to a lot of the rooms, only the ones she'd be taken for study. And since the building had many different floors and rooms, that meant there were plenty of long, bendy hallways. Anyone who didn't know the layout could get lost easily. On top of that, guards and security cameras were pretty much everywhere. Netta wasn't sure why one place needed so many guards and cameras. No one ever tried anything.

But as Netta was being dragged through countless different hallways, she tried to keep track of where she was going and how many turns she'd made. It was hard to do so, sadly. The scientists were really hurrying and were pretty much dragging Netta along. By the time they made it to their destination, the young woman was already feeling exhausted. When the door opened, Netta winced slightly. A lot of the doors let out such loud screeches, it was almost deafening. Once the door was open, however, Netta could see suited men and military men on the other side. And behind those men was a large glass window. The glass room, as so many people called it. That specific room was one of many infamous experiment areas. There was also a supposed red room, where people were murdered and dissected in front of a live audience – who those people were was a mystery in Netta's mind. In all honesty, the glass room seemed a lot better than being dissected on camera. In front of God knows how many people. However, the red room seemed to be only a rumor.

"Good, you got her." A heavyset man in a nice suit stepped forward. His graying brown hair was slicked back, his almost black eyes were sparkling with some unnamed emotion. It made Netta's stomach churn. "Bring her in," the man said, waving almost dismissively to the scientists. The male scientist shoved Netta forward as his companion shut the door behind them.

"So this is your major project, Eckhardt?" A man donning military attire looked at Netta with a scrutinizing glare. A thick accent laced his words as he spoke. "She looks pitiful."

"I know she may not look like much," the heavy man, Eckhardt, exclaimed, "but she's powerful, especially for an Inhuman."

"What is the obsession with these enhanced people?" Another military man abruptly stood up from where he sat. "They're unruly and cannot be easily controlled. I say we stick with the..."

"That's enough, General." Eckhardt threw a look the General's way. "If we make her nervous, there's no telling how she'd react."

Netta was nervous, but she knew better than to lash out. She could only assume a vast majority of those men, if not all of them, had weapons on them. So if Netta tried anything, she would surely be killed.

"What exactly _can_ she do?" A sharply dressed man looked at Netta carefully, as if he were eyeing a piece of meat. "You spoke so highly of her, Eckhardt. What makes her better than the other subjects?"

"Her abilities," Eckhardt exclaimed. "Complete immunity to all toxins on top of being able to excrete very lethal poisons from her body."

"And that makes her useful?"

"Take her fingernails, for example." The heavy man waved for the scientists to uncuff her. With her hands free, Eckhardt grabbed one of her hands and pulled it forward, showing off Netta's sharpened fingernails. "Just one nail excretes enough poison to kill a fully grown man." Dropping her hand, Eckhardt moved to open her mouth, showing off her teeth. "Her _teeth_ , particularly her fangs, can do just the same. Her saliva, just as deadly. She's able to control how much poison gets released at a time, and it only stays in the victim's bodies for a short amount of time before dissolving."

Some of the men murmured amongst themselves.

"Our studies on the poison she produces suggests similarities to a Mojave rattlesnake," the female scientist responded. Her voice was very professional, but also very cold. "Symptoms are similar, though hers seems to be slightly more potent than the average Mojave rattler."

"What are these symptoms?" Eckhardt asked.

"Pain, tingling, or burning at injection site," the male scientist started, "numbness; weakness, nausea, and lightheadedness..."

"...difficulty breathing," the woman continued, "bruising or discoloration at the injection site, and swelling of injection site."

"There are ways to cure snakebites." One sharply dressed man looked between Eckhardt, the scientists, and Netta. He seemed genuinely unimpressed. "She's useless."

"Like I said, her poison only stays in a victim's body for a certain period of time before disappearing," Eckhardt pressed. "Whoever is unfortunate enough to get caught by her will be dead before anything can be done about it."

"You have too much faith in her, Eckhardt. She has no place in the field."

"She'll need more training, yes," Eckhardt sighed, "but I'm here to show you what she can really do."

That didn't sound good at all.

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **A messy start to this, but hopefully you guys find something enjoyable out of it. Leave constructive criticism where you think it's due, OK? That's important.**

 **Nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and an excitement for INFINITY WAR's earlier release date.**

 **Like I mentioned before, leave constructive criticism where you think it's due.**

 **Spread some love today.**

 **Tillie Blue**


	2. Chapter 2

_I love my room, I'm getting used to sleeping_

 _Some nights I really like to lie awake_  
 _I hear the midnight birds_  
 _The message in their words_  
 _The dawn will touch me in a way a boy could never touch_  
 _Their promise never meant so much to me_

-God Help the Girl; **from God Help the Girl**

* * *

The glass room was split into two parts. The area where Eckhardt and the other men were in was the observatory, which was separated by a glass barrier and accompanied by a small door off to the side. That small door led to the chamber, where the experiments happened. On the other side of that barrier, where many subjects were exposed to horrific testing, was a cold, damp room. In the very center was a rusting, metal chair. An old, somewhat malfunctioning speaker was stationed on the chamber's upper wall, the only way people from the observatory could communicate with anyone on the other side. The whole set up was almost barbaric. But wasn't H.Y.D.R.A. known for that? Barbaric experiments on unwilling souls? Horrific torture and unspeakable conditions? Of course the higher officials lived the lives of luxury, it was the subjects who received the butt end of the stick.

But that glass room – that damned little room. Just _seeing_ it firsthand was enough to drive the strongest person insane. So many horrendous things happened in the chamber, because H.Y.D.R.A. officials wanted immediate results. It wasn't right. Netta had been exposed to the glass room once before, when a group of scientists wanted to conduct an experiment on her. She didn't think she'd make it out, and it scared the crap out of her. She remembered going in, and a scientist in a hazmat suit coming in with some weird looking crystal. Netta had never seen anything like it – it looked smooth and had an eerie bluish hue to it. The coloration seemed to become lighter or darker, depending on the way it was moved. Why the man was wearing a hazmat suit, though, Netta couldn't say. What happened next was truly baffling. The man quickly gave the young woman the crystal before hurrying out of the chamber. The observers told Netta to throw the crystal on the ground, making sure there was enough force behind it for it to break.

While she complied, there was hesitance behind it. Netta didn't know what to expect. She had no idea why they were making her break crystals or why it held any significance in the supposed experiment. So when she saw it break, confusion and fear bubbled in her stomach when a white mist expelled from the crystal's remains. As it rose upwards, Netta swore she felt it clinging to her body, as if it were being absorbed into her. By the time it disappeared, the young woman stood still for a moment, unsure in how to proceed. It wasn't long after when the stiffness started to come. A dark brown goo started to form around Netta's body, starting from her feet and working its way upward. Once it finished covering an area, the goo would harden, forming some kind of cocoon. Netta had been mortified, trying to figure out a way to break free, but the goo was holding her in place. She had tried begging for help, but none of the observers did anything. The moment it covered Netta's head, she was left in complete darkness. Time didn't seem to exist once the darkness settled. Everything seemed to be a blur, and nothing Netta could do seemed to help. She couldn't move, she couldn't think properly. It was like her body was undergoing some kind of change without her consent.

By the time the cocoon broke, crumbling into dust, Netta felt like a completely different person. Her body didn't feel like hers, it didn't feel _right_.

That had been her first experience in the glass room. She had overheard the scientists, later on, after the experiments were finished, calling Netta's transformation _Terrigenesis_. A weird name for an even _weirder_ ordeal. Netta wasn't sure what to make of it all, but she knew that there were things about her that weren't normal. Her fingernails became sharpened like claws – she could extend and retract them at will. Her canines were the same way. Even her _tongue_ changed. It was longer, thinner, forked at the end. Netta's sense of smell heightened but her vision diminished a little. She could still see, but she needed to focus a lot on what was going on around her. Her skin, on the other hand, was a different story. Netta occasionally found areas on her body where the skin seemed to harden and become discolored, almost as if she were growing some kind of natural armor. Over time those areas would disappear and reappear in other locations. Those little areas were still up for study. At the moment, her skin wasn't going to be of value until scientists could figure out what it was.

Eckhardt wanted to focus on what _was_ understood. Netta's immunity to all forms of toxins and her ability to expel poisons from her nails, teeth, and saliva was studied more closely. That was why all those men showed up. To see the progress Eckhardt had made in his research on Netta's Inhumanity. That word, just like Terrigenesis, was just as foreign to her. So, as she stood in the chamber, awaiting for whatever those H.Y.D.R.A. men had in store, Netta felt her heart beating uncontrollably in her chest. What did they expect her to do? It didn't make any sense. Did Eckhardt plan on having Netta kill someone? For the most part, she'd been expected to kill animals that had been gathered from nearby woods and forests.* It hurt, having to do something like that, but Netta's life was on the line. She wanted to do what was necessary to survive, and it wasn't at all easy. The one thing she hoped for would be an opportunity to escape. Whether it be from the generosity of a scientist or some other operative, or by herself. Netta almost scoffed at the thought, though. She knew no H.Y.D.R.A. official would ever be so merciful as to allow Netta the chance to escape. She also knew she wasn't strong enough to get out on her own, either.

When the door to the chamber opened, Netta snapped herself out of her thoughts. She couldn't afford to let herself get distracted. If she did, then she may have to pay the consequences. H.Y.D.R.A. _really_ favored their consequences.

Looking over to the doorway, Netta swallowed when she saw two security guards dragging in a man. The captive had a bag over his head, and it was obvious he was disoriented and confused. Hell, he may have even been assaulted in some way. Shoving him into the rusted chair, Netta looked at the security guards, feeling a little uneasy.

 _"Subject Macfarland,_ _your job is to kill this man."_ The voice from the speaker was scratchy and a little hard to make out, but could be understood with some really good listening skills. _"How you choose to do it is up to you. Failure to comply will result in your immediate termination."_

The two guards stood on either side of the man, who still had his head covered. Netta swallowed thickly, shuffling uncomfortably where she stood. Being forced to kill animals was in no way similar to having to kill a living person.* Maybe in some ways they'd be similar, but Netta was feeling a little overwhelmed. Her heart was starting to beat faster in her chest, the air seemed to be suffocating her. Why did she have to kill the man? Had he done something wrong? Was he a H.Y.D.R.A. traitor? Or a spy?

 _"Subject Macfarland...,"_ Eckhardt's voice came through the speaker harshly, making Netta jump where she stood. Quickly walking over to the man, she stumbled to remove his cover. Her hands were trembling and she felt her entire body shake. He _seemed_ to be a relatively young guy, with blonde, messy hair and pale skin. Netta could see some bruises on his neck, which showed obvious signs of physical assault. His breathing was labored and he tried to formulate words, but the guards were keeping him quiet. Swallowing thickly, Netta forced herself to take a deep breath while she extended her pointer nail. The nail curved out a little the further out it went, and once it was at its full length, Netta let out a sigh.

 _I'm sorry,_ she thought. Quickly piercing the man's neck with her fingernail, she left it there for a moment as the poison got absorbed into his body. Any veins around the area became discolored, turning a sickly green color. When Netta took her nail out, she looked with disgust as the discoloration started to spread. The skin would later start to swell up, leaving the skin in a nauseating red color. Netta had seen the symptoms of her poison affect living things before, but she'd never seen it on bare skin. So many feelings started to swirl inside her. So many thoughts assaulted her. His breathing started to pick up, becoming erratic. Pained groans and whines came from his mouth.

 _"Very good,"_ Eckhardt exclaimed. _"Take her back to her cell."_

 **-0-0-0-0-**

There were a lot of feelings swirling inside Netta. Anger, disgust, guilt – a whirlwind of emotions that were tearing her apart. On top of that, Netta's mind was going on a rampage. She was degrading herself, thinking up all kinds of insults to call her. It was almost amazing, how much one's self can be diminished by thoughts and emotions. It only seemed fair, however, that Netta deserve to be treated that way. She'd just killed a man. Why _shouldn't_ she bring herself down? He probably had a family who wanted to know where he was. He could've had friends who were scared they'd never see him again. Netta ruined everything for that man. His family and friends would probably never know what happened to him. H.Y.D.R.A. would dispose of the body in the only way they knew how – bury it so deep no one could ever find it. That was their solution for everything.

Netta took a shaky breath and let it out. She needed to calm herself down. She'd hesitated in the glass room, she showed the other H.Y.D.R.A. officials she still had weaknesses. She valued human life, H.Y.D.R.A. couldn't be bothered with it. That wasn't the kind of world Netta wanted to live in. She didn't want to keep exposing herself to the violence and hatred that seemed to work its way through the organization. She couldn't stand the way she was being treated, how she was viewed by the others. She was a subject, a science experiment. She didn't qualify as a human being in their eyes. Well, maybe in some ways they're right. Whatever an Inhuman was, it didn't sound very homosapien, in Netta's opinion. But that didn't mean she shouldn't be considered an equal. She knew if those feelings continued in her, then maybe she'd build the courage to actually escape H.Y.D.R.A.

Flexing her hands slightly, Netta tried to get herself relaxed. She would figure everything out once she made it to her cell.

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Sorry for the wait on this chapter, I've been working on catching up on homework because finals are way too close for comfort, and I don't want to fail my classes. Though it seems as though I'm already walking a fine line between passing and failing, so...**

 **If you've got any constructive criticism, don't hesitate to let me know, OK? That's important stuff. Reviewer input will help me improve the story greatly.**

 **Also, nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, subplots, and an undying love for garlic bread.**

 **Be sure to spread some love today, guys.**

 **Tillie Blue**


	3. Chapter 3

_"Nobody exists on purpose, nobody belongs anywhere, everybody's gonna die. Come watch TV."_

-Morty Smith; **from Rick and Morty** (2014)

* * *

What had Netta's life been like before H.Y.D.R.A.? If anyone had asked her that, she would say boring. Uneventful. Nauseatingly average. In Netta's eyes, she believed she hadn't accomplished a single thing. She worked two full-time jobs to pay off bills, rent, and tuition. She attended _university_ full-time to get her degree in cultural history. Netta lived in an apartment with her dog and cat, both of whom just couldn't get along. She did have friends and family, but because of her schedule, it was hard to squeeze in any socialization. It always made the young woman feel bad, but she hoped they'd understand. Netta always acknowledged whenever a friend or family member couldn't meet up because of scheduling differences. That was just how she was. She wanted to believe she was a kind and understanding person, someone who could be relied on when it came to certain situations. So how did H.Y.D.R.A. fit into all of that? Through her grandfather's funeral.* Netta's grandfather was an Austrian native, who had immigrated to the States shortly after his wife had. A number of decades later, and the young woman's grandfather would succumb to a long battle with cancer. His only wish was to be buried in his native country. After the funeral, when it was certain Netta was out of eyesight of others, she was abducted and never heard from again.

As for whether or not her friends or family looked for her, Netta couldn't say. She'd been heavily sedated. Any memories she may have between the funeral and her transportation was blurry. One moment she was grieving the loss of a family member, next she was grieving the loss of her freedom. On top of that, Netta had to come to the realization she wasn't an _average_ human. She had to learn through harsh experiments that she was something called _In_ human. She didn't know exactly what that meant, but it was obviously something of importance to H.Y.D.R.A. What were their goals with Inhumans? Did they _have_ some kind of master plan? If there was a plan, did that mean there were others like Netta in the facility? She sure as hell hoped there were. It would help her feel less alone. It'd give her the chance to feel even an _ounce_ of confidence and reassurance. Sadly, H.Y.D.R.A.'s isolation policies were very strict, so any hopes of Netta finding another Inhuman were unlikely.

It was a little depressing, wondering whether or not there were other Inhumans at the facility. Netta wanted to believe _so badly_ she could find others who were going through what she was going through. She desperately wanted others to relate with. Maybe even to help organize an escape plan. Netta knew immunity to toxins and being able to fatally poison others wasn't exactly a good fighting technique, especially if she'd be up against guns. Not to mention those discolored patches on her skin were still a mystery themselves. Netta wanted to find someone like her who had more useful powers. She wanted to find someone who could fight off the guards and help her get out. But, knowing her luck, she wouldn't be able to find a single person like that. The only person Netta could rely on was herself. That was why, after being forced to kill that man in the glass room, the young Inhuman promised herself she'd figure out a way to escape. She had been pushed to her limit. Countless experiments, being forced to kill innocent animals, and then to kill a real living human. Netta knew her life was always in danger, and she had to do what was necessary to survive. But there _had_ to be a limit. She couldn't just keep following H.Y.D.R.A.'s orders unquestioningly. She _had_ to figure out an escape route. And fast.*

 **-0-0-0-0-**

"I think she'd make a great addition to H.Y.D.R.A.," Eckhardt said. "You all saw what she did. She'll be useful in furthering our agenda."

With a scoff, the General crossed his arms over his chest. He was in no way impressed. "I don't see why we need another enhanced subject," he snapped. "We've got the Twins, _plus_ the Asset. They're both difficult to control at the best of times."

"Try not to worry _too_ much, General." Eckhardt's eyes glittered excitedly. "We all know the Asset is useful for his distance attacking. The Twins...we know they need more training. But _her_ – she will be good for more up front attacks."

"What do you mean?" Another man looked Eckhardt's way.

"Like previously mentioned, she's able to excrete poison from her teeth, fingernails, and saliva." The potbellied man listed the traits off on his fingers. "Her poison does not stay in the body very long, and it kills any living being almost instantly. She'll be extremely valuable for taking on our enemies head-on. No one will suspect it's her."

"You're suggesting we train an _Inhuman_?" The General looked at Eckhardt in disgust. "You can't mean that."

"Of _course_ I mean that. We're still trying to get Operation Insight off the ground, right? She could help us get some of our enemies out of the way while we finish up all the little details." There was a long pause. "Consider it, gentlemen. We all know what's good for the world. People can't be trusted with their own freedom, that's why it's our job to _control_ them. Hail H.Y.D.R.A."

"Hail H.Y.D.R.A."

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Once her cell door had closed behind her, Netta let out a huff. She stood in front of her cell door, thinking. She had to figure out an escape plan, and she needed it to be foolproof. Everything had to be done with 100% certainty. But how would that happen? How did she plan on making it through a maze of hallways and doors? On top of that, the facility was crawling with security guards. She needed to know what else she could do to ensure her safety and wellbeing. Her powers weren't the best, at least when it came down to combat, but she'd make the best of it. Netta let out a frustrated sigh.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she grimaced slightly when she felt something hard under her tattered t-shirt. It was an all-too-familiar feeling. Those discolored patches. Upon physical examination – by her, of course – Netta realized they were hard to the touch. She concluded it had to be some kind of armor, albeit premature or unable to fully cover her. Another useless ability. But then again, Netta knew that her powers could be fine-tuned over time. Her control over the poison she released came with practice. That was the only good thing that came out of H.Y.D.R.A.

Quickly unfolding her arms, Netta started to pace around her cell. Occasionally, her green eyes would flicker around, looking at the filthy walls and the big, steel door. Sometimes her eyes would glance downward at the ground, or at the security camera near the furthest corner of her room. Netta was going to figure something out eventually. She _had_ to. H.Y.D.R.A.'s control over her had to come to an end. Running a hand through her copper brown hair, she chewed on her bottom lip anxiously. Again, her eyes flickered to the security camera stationed at the furthest corner of her room. She'd have to figure a way to disarm that and then figure a way out of her cell. It was a start. It was a _definite_ start.

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Honestly, this isn't the best chapter, but this was the best I could come up with. Whatever you think could use improvement, let me know, OK? That's important. I'll always welcome constructive criticism.**

 **Nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and a love for my dog. If you've got ideas for subplots or OCs, PM me or leave a review.**

 **Also, this may be old news, but how many of you heard that INFINITY WAR will be moved up to April instead of May? I can't say with 100% certainty that it's true, but I'd be super excited if it was. I had heard rumors INFINITY WAR was being moved up because DEADPOOL was going to be released around the same time. I also heard that Robert Downey, Jr. suggested the movie be moved up, as well. Again, I'm not 100% sure on this. Let me know what your thoughts are on this.**

 **Be sure to spread some love today!**

 **Tillie Blue**


	4. Chapter 4

_"Remember the bad guys on those shows you used to watch on Saturday mornings? Well, those guys aren't like those guys. They won't exercise restraint because you're children. They will kill you if they get the chance. Do not give them that chance."_

-Elastigirl; **from The Incredibles** (2004)

* * *

-Step #1 in escaping H.Y.D.R.A.: _Gain more control over known abilities._

Netta knew that she did have a level of control over abilities; the scientists and doctors made sure of that. But she also knew that she'd have to work on improving them if she planned on escaping. Having an immunity to all known toxins was obviously something she may have no trouble controlling, but _expelling_ poison was something she'd be able to work on. Netta's ability to excrete poison from her nails, teeth, and saliva was very useful, and she could control it at the best of times. The only downside was that she tended to lose control the more stressed or panicked she got. The poison would either come in high amounts or not at all. There was hardly an in-between.

On top of that, there was also the hardened, discolored skin. Netta knew that it served as some kind of armor, considering its rigidness, she just didn't know how to expand it. She knew almost immediately she'd have to work on that if she wanted to leave. If those discolored patches did happen to be armor, then she'd be able to, hopefully withstand bullets and other weapons. It'd make things a lot easier for her.

-Step #2 in escaping H.Y.D.R.A.: _Figure out a way to shut off cell camera._

The camera stationed in the furthest corner of Netta's room was always on. It was protocol for all H.Y.D.R.A. subjects. In no way could the cameras be turned off or otherwise inactive. Subjects needed to be observed at all times, to ensure nothing would go wrong. In a way, it made sense. H.Y.D.R.A. wanted to keep themselves together, they wanted to ensure authority over those they deemed inferior. In their eyes, Netta was an inferior. But if she wanted to get out, she had to make sure no one saw it, so that camera had to go. She wasn't exactly sure how to do that yet, but she'd get there once her powers were more fine-tuned.

-Step #3: _Figure out the interior of the facility._

Anyone who had little to no knowledge on the facility's layout would get lost easily. It was that simple. With so many hallways and turns, it wouldn't be difficult to lose track of where the destination was supposed to be. Netta needed to figure out a way to learn the facility's interior. Which hallways led to which exits? How far underground was she? She knew that a lot of the things H.Y.D.R.A. wanted kept secret were kept underground, so that meant a lot more work for Netta. She'd have to figure out ways to make up to the surface safely, without drawing too much attention to herself. But how would anyone on the outside react to some random American woman running out looking like a rabid animal? That part wasn't going to be easy. And what if someone called the authorities? Would the people inside know enough to escape? Were there secret tunnels inside the facility? Questions like that fluttered through Netta's brain like a bat out of hell.

She'd figure something out, though. It wasn't going to be the end of the world.

-Step #4: _Once out, figure out a way to back home._

The last thing Netta remembered was attending her grandfather's funeral in Austria. It was a little funeral just outside of Vienna. Only a few family members and close friends attended. It wasn't long afterwards that Netta had been abducted. She didn't know where she was, she had no idea of telling if any of the citizens could speak an ounce of English. She figured some could, but that didn't help her feel any better. Netta was essentially being held captive in another country, with no way of knowing how, when, or _if_ she'd ever get home. Had her family noticed her disappearance? It wasn't like the young woman had a habit of vanishing, so she could only hope her loved ones took notice. Plus, wouldn't it be considered weird for her to just up and leave so suddenly after laying her grandfather to rest? There had been plans to meet up at a distant relative's place to continue the mourning there. Hadn't anyone noticed?

Netta could only hope that whoever took her old clothes and personal items still had them lying around somewhere. If the address to that relative's location was still in her purse, then she'd be able to track him down. Netta would have a safe place until she figured a way back to America.

-Step #5: _Don't die._

That one was obvious. She had to better herself if she wanted to make it out alive. She couldn't hope to go out untrained. It was common knowledge.

But, like any plan, there were things that needed working out. And Netta definitely knew she'd have to work hers out if it was going to be foolproof.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Sitting on the ground, Netta drew her legs up. Her back was pressed against the filthy wall of her cell. Her hair was around her face and her eyes closed. She was going to allow herself a moment to truly think. She would not let herself be so easily exposed. Was she excited of the idea of being able to escape? Certainly. Was she scared on getting exposed? Of _course_. No way in hell would H.Y.D.R.A. catch onto Netta.

So, she sat herself on the ground to think. And she'd keep thinking and plotting until she got herself into motion.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Letting out a shaky breath, Rhiannon Sanchez adjusted her glasses. H.Y.D.R.A. officials assigned her to security footage duty the day she came in. Considering she had no prior training in anything before her joining, it only seemed reasonable she take security watch. No one else wanted the position, anyway. Rhiannon took her job seriously, doing what she could to impress her superiors. She wanted to make a name for herself in H.Y.D.R.A., to prove her loyalty to the organization. That was what she told the higher ups, at least. She'd been very well informed of the penalties any disobedience or treacherous behavior. And Rhiannon liked to believe she was anything but _stupid_.

A sudden knock on her office door startled her from where she sat. She nearly jumped a good foot in the air. Before Rhiannon even had a chance to respond, her office door opened and on the other side stood Randall Eckhardt. One of the highest H.Y.D.R.A. officials. He was well-known in the underground community for his dealings in illegal weapons selling, allowing all kinds of shady business to go on between his organization and all kinds of criminals. From what Rhiannon understood, if any business was able to expand H.Y.D.R.A.'s, then it was considered good. Eckhardt felt it was only necessary to mingle where he felt it was necessary.

"How's surveillance, Sanchez?" he asked, his tone firm and cold.

"I-It's good, sir." Rhiannon nodded as she readjusted her glasses. She had quickly scrambled her way out of her seat and stood in front of the monitors. "We've received no problems from the subjects. None of the guards have anything to report or update on."

With a nod, Eckhardt casually walked into the office, motioning Rhiannon to step aside. As she tried to move as quickly as possible, she took note of how the potbellied man observed the screens. He looked like he was deep in thought, as if he were trying to comprehend what he was seeing. In all honesty, it wasn't that hard. All anyone could see were halls occupied by the occasional guard. What else could be expected?

"Tell me, Sanchez," he said, pointing to one of the screens, "do you know what this is?"

Cautiously peering over his shoulders, the young woman was greeted with the face of one of the subjects. It was a woman, probably a year or two younger than Rhiannon herself, who was closing in on her thirtieth birthday. The subject had green eyes and copper brown hair. The clothes she wore were typical for H.Y.D.R.A. subjects — worn, tattered clothes. For the women, an old, oversized brown shirt with baggy shorts. For the men, whatever old men's shirts that someone could find plus old, tattered pants. Usually, if no actual clothes could be found, hospital scrubs would serve as a replacement. It was quick and easy. But from what Rhiannon could see, the subject's gaze seemed distant, her skin seemed to already hold an olive color, but the dirt and filth that had built up over time made it look darker. It was no secret that the subjects in _any_ H.Y.D.R.A. were treated poorly. They weren't seen as equals.*

"I, uhm, I don't know her, s-sir," Rhiannon murmured. "I've monitored her frequently, though. She doesn't do much."

Eckhardt nodded. "She's our top subject, Sanchez," he responded. "Of all the Inhumans in our custody, she shows the most promise. So I want you to keep a closer eye on her."

"S-She's an Inhuman?"

"You knew what you were getting into the moment you walked into this facility." The heavyset man looked at Sanchez with narrowed eyes. "Didn't your supervisors inform you of the situation?"

"They told me I'd be helping in a research facility," Rhiannon said quietly. "That was all."

A nod was given in response. "Just do what I told you, OK?" he muttered. "Keep an eye on that one. She's special. We've got big plans for her."

"Y-Yes sir." When Eckhardt left Rhiannon's office, closing the door behind him, the young woman let out a relieved sigh. Sitting back down at her desk, she nibbled on her bottom lip as she stole another glance at the image of the subject. Nodding, Rhiannon opened a desk drawer and pulled out a Flex Screen and pulled up the necessary screen.

"This is Agent Sanchez," she said softly. "Update for Director Fury. H.Y.D.R.A.'s mingling with Inhuman experiments. Currently, they've got their sights on one in particular. Will report next when more info is gathered."

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Sorry for the wait on the chapter, but I hope you guys like it. If you've got ideas for future updates, don't hesitate to let me know. PM me or leave a review. Other than that, give constructive criticism where you think it's needed. I'd love to know what you guys think needs improvement.**

 **Nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, the subplots I put in, and an obsession with music. If you've got an OC or a subplot you'd like to see written into the story, PM me or leave a review.**

 **On that note, be sure to spread some love today, guys!**

 **Tillie Blue**


	5. Chapter 5

_"It's going to be okay, beautiful; I'll show you the way."_

-Jiaying; **from Marvel's Agents of SHIELD** (2015)

* * *

The day Rhiannon had been told she'd be sent undercover, she nearly had a heart attack. She wasn't a skilled agent, she wasn't an expert liar — hell, she'd hardly been working at S.H.I.E.L.D. for very long. The only reason she had been chosen was because Director Fury believed she'd be the last person _any_ one would consider to be a spy. While it made sense, it scared Rhiannon shitless.* She wasn't entirely sure what to expect, so she could only hope that things moved along quickly and smoothly so she could get back to the Helicarrier. And, thankfully, it seemed to be doing just that. Eckhardt's admittance of H.Y.D.R.A.'s Inhuman experimentation should catch Fury's interest, especially the supposed "favorite". All Rhiannon had to do was wait. She'd try and gather as much intel as she could on the matter, but she knew that Eckhardt didn't visit the Austria base all that often. He'd only visit when absolutely necessary.*

Running a hand through her red hair, Rhiannon could only hope that he'd stick around long enough to give more information. He seemed to be quite the chatterbox, so it hopefully wouldn't take much to get him to spill more of what he knew. The good thing was that she seemed to be rather approachable to the other H.Y.D.R.A. agents, mostly due to her quiet nature and skittish demeanor. Rhiannon did have to give Fury credit, he sent the most approachable, under-the-radar kind of person to keep an eye on H.Y.D.R.A.'s works. And it seemed as though Inhumans were the Austria branch's specialty. That on its own worried her. Not only were there dozens of subjects under H.Y.D.R.A.'s command, but Eckhardt's fascination with them was almost obsessive. While Rhiannon didn't have the fine details on what he planned on doing with them, she did have a general idea. If Eckhardt could gather enough Inhumans and experiment on them enough, he could very well have a working army of enhanced individuals. That alone was frightening. H.Y.D.R.A.'s dream of world domination sent chills up Rhiannon's spine. The terrorist organization believed wholeheartedly they could control people through fear, that anyone who dares to speak out against them should be terminated on the spot. For S.H.I.E.L.D., they worked through different methods of how to take the enemy out without causing too much of a scene. Well, that was how Rhiannon saw it.

Clicking through some more of the security footage, the young woman let out a sigh. She'd already risked a lot sending out a message to S.H.I.E.L.D., she couldn't afford anything else like that. In the meantime, she'd do what she could in gaining info on the Inhumans.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Netta remembered her life before H.Y.D.R.A. She remembered her family, her friends, what her childhood had been like. There were parts that were starting to fade away, but she knew they were there. And she was doing everything in her power to keep those memories. To keep her old life _safe_. Netta could remember her parents' divorce, and spending every other weekend at her father's. She remembered her mother remarrying, then having three more children with her new husband. Netta also remembered having a general dislike for her stepfather, Javier. Javier was, predictably, a bitter man. He was controlling, easily prone to anger and jealousy, and hated his stepdaughter immensely. Jacqueline, Netta's mother, tried her best to make things work between her daughter and new husband, but it wasn't easy. Javier and Netta refused to get along, their personalities clashed and exploded into almost violent arguments. Jacqueline tried to intervene when necessary, but in some cases she couldn't. The police had been involved more than once.

Netta also remembered her younger half-siblings. She loved them, she really did, but deep down it felt as if she'd been replaced. Jacqueline and Javier provided more attention to her younger siblings, seemingly giving them more affection. As a result, Netta spent more time at her father's. Not long after she turned sixteen, she asked her father, Josiah, if he could file for full-custody. They both knew it'd be difficult, since Jacqueline was very determined to keep her children with her at all costs. Netta's sister, Dotty, who'd been born not long after the divorce finalized, rarely got to see Josiah, having spent most of her time with Javier as a role model. In Jacqueline's eyes, she found that to be completely acceptable. Why would Dotty need to see her biological father? According to their mother, Josiah would never amount to anything, so it wasn't necessary for the youngest Macfarland daughter to see him. Netta had been furious. She looked up to her father, admired him for all he tried to do for his ex-wife and children. He paid child support, even while struggling with two jobs and rent. He sent cards and presents for every birthday and Christmas. Josiah Macfarland was doing the best he could. Those memories were the ones Netta struggled to keep.

Other memories that were fluctuating in Netta's head were ones she found to be the most influential. Her father gaining full-custody, dropping out of high school, getting a GED, getting a first job – things that Netta believed help define who she'd become. She'd done her best to become the most successful person she could be, and she knew it was going to be hard with just a high school education. She'd struggled to get through school since transitioning to a newer environment. Living with her father was certainly something different. No more fighting with Javier, no more police calls from Jacqueline, no more feeling lost or insignificant because of her half-siblings – Netta could feel as though she belonged with Josiah. He gave her his undivided attention, making sure she was comfortable and happy. That was the one thing Netta wanted. She continued living with her father for a number of years after the new custody arrangement, and when news came of her grandfather dying, she chose to go to Austria for his funeral. Josiah had been hesitant to go, since the divorce between him and Jacqueline had been nasty overall. In the end, he sent Netta off with a card from him. It was the best thing he could come up with.

Netta wanted, so desperately, to keep those memories with her forever. She wanted to remember living with her father, the hostility between her and her stepfather. She wanted to remember what life would be like before H.Y.D.R.A.'s influence. It was no surprise that Netta saw herself as no one special before, that had been the life she lived. She was an average, every day person, doing what she could to get by. The most frustrating thing, however, wasn't the fact that she was trying to hold her family's memories, but she was starting to lose those involving her friends, as well. That was why figuring out Avery's last name was so difficult. Being under H.Y.D.R.A.'s control seemed to alter her perception of time. Had it been weeks? Months? _Years_? God, she would've felt _numb_ if it'd been years since her disappearance. It only made her wonder even more on how her family reacted.

Letting out a sigh, the young Inhuman rested her head against the cold wall. Lazily turning her head, Netta looked at the security camera with mild scrutiny. She needed to figure out a way to disarm it. In the meantime, she allowed herself enough time to reminisce. She was going to be her own hero.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

"Sir, Agent Sanchez has sent an update." Maria Hill furrowed her brows ever so slightly as she regarded her holo-screen. Sanchez's information was vague, but obviously important if she felt the need to report back to HQ. In Hill's eyes, that was unsettling, but maybe Fury would be able to make sense of it.

"Do you have it up?"

"Yes, sir."

Without another word, a tall, bald, African American man walked over, his hands clasped behind his back. This man donned an all black attire, an eyepatch covering an eye and a serious frown on his face. When he stood next to Maria, he motioned for her to play the message. What the two heard sent a wave of emotions through their bodies.* For Hill, it was because of what she didn't know on the subject. She didn't know what an Inhuman was, or why H.Y.D.R.A. found such interest in them all of a sudden. For Fury, it was because he'd heard of them and how dangerous they could become.

"Try and contact Agent Sanchez," Fury said, his tone firm and unwavering. "Tell her to find information on H.Y.D.R.A.'s favorite and send it back to us. If we can get her out, then we can have her work for us."

"Sir?" Maria's brows furrowed, a look of confusion on her face. "You want an Inhuman working for us?"

"Don't worry too much on it," he dismissed. "They're powerful, but they can be helped. Call Coulson and tell him to get ready on my call."

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Sorry for the wait, but here's the chapter. If you've got constructive criticism, don't hesitate to let me know, OK? I'm always welcome for that.**

 **Nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, the subplots I put in, and an unhealthy addiction to bread. It's not good at all.**

 **Anywho, be sure to spread plenty of love today, guys!**

 **Tillie Blue**


	6. Chapter 6

_Paranoia strikes deep_  
 _Into your life it will creep_  
 _It starts when you're always afraid_  
 _Step out of line, the men come and take you away_

-For What It's Worth; **by Malia J**

* * *

Olive-green. Hard, looking as if it were made completely out of scales. Forming around the soft tissues, or maybe it _was_ the soft tissues, to change into an armor-like covering. That had been Netta's observation of the patches that appeared on her skin. Currently, there was one on the palm of her hand, and it fascinated her the more she tried to study it. Still, she had no real understanding on it, considering those little patches appeared and _dis_ appeared on their own accord. But Netta knew she'd have to harness them if she planned on using them for her advantage. She also came to understand that if she wanted to keep those little patches in one area, she needed to concentrate _hard_. It was in no way similar to her poison control, that could be unconsciously controlled. The scaly armor had to have a conscious effort.

With narrowed green eyes, Netta decided to try something. She knew that her poison would kill anyone who came in contact with it, so she wanted to know how it'd effect herself, especially the scaled area. Now, Netta believed that her poison would have no effect on _her_ , considering she was the one who was producing it. But there were still things she wanted to know about what she could do. So, she extended one of her fingernails and took a deep breath. After she let it out, Netta tried to puncture the scaled area on her palm. To her surprise, her nail didn't even scratch the surface. She half expected her nail to be ripped off, but that didn't happen, which meant her nails were a lot stronger than she expected. With a deep frown, Netta began scratching her extended nail across the scales, but not even a _mark_ showed up. That was when a small smirk came across her face.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

It took a lot of work, and a lot of concentration, but Netta was able to spread the scales over her entire hand and partially over her wrist. The scales showed a particularly decorative pattern. It was almost diamond in shape, with the scales making up those patterns being darker than the rest. Netta found that to be extremely fascinating, considering she'd never expected something like that before. In all the other areas on her body, whenever the scales would show up, she hadn't paid much attention to design. She didn't think it was very important. But she was very pleased with herself, she was already starting to make improvements. If the scales were able to protect her from her nails, then maybe they'd protect her from bullets, as well.

Turning her hand around, so Netta could look at her palm, she slowly curled her hand into a fist. The way the scales moved with her hand was strange, how it all felt as a whole made her squirm in slight discomfort. Netta knew she'd have to practice more with the scales in order to get accustomed to it. She'd especially have to get used to the amount of concentration it took just to fill up a certain area.

Letting out a sigh, Netta lowered her hand. She'd be able to practice more with it later. The only downside to her scaling ability was having to keep it secret from H.Y.D.R.A. personnel. If they found out about that, they'd start up _more_ experiments. There was no way in _hell_ Netta would want something like that. H.Y.D.R.A. doctors and scientists had quite the jolly, ol' time slicing and dicing the young woman's body in hopes of gaining more useful data. Sadly, the outcomes weren't so great for Netta. She had to be exposed to grueling recovery periods, being forced to live with horrific scars on her body. If the wounds hadn't been properly cleaned or closed by the authorized individuals, that meant extremely painful infections. During Netta's time as H.Y.D.R.A.'s science experiment, she'd endured more infections than she could count. Each one seemed to be more terrible than the last. In all honesty, the young Inhuman lost count of how many times she'd been near death from the sheer _disregard_ H.Y.D.R.A. had for her life. And she was supposed to be their most prized experiment? They treated her just a little bit above _garbage_. It _infuriated_ Netta! How could she, and others like her, be treated so poorly? She may not truly understand what she was supposed to be, but she understood that her life was just as significant as the next person's.

Not everyone may have the chance to unlock superpowers, but what gives them the right to treat superpowered individuals so badly?

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Netty had her nails extended. It had been a couple days since she covered her hand in the scales, and she decided to put that little part on hiatus while she worked on her other ability. How on Earth could she practice taking down a moving target in a _cell_? It was nearly impossible. Unless she decided to be brave and test out on the next doctor, scientist, or guard who came to retrieve her, Netta knew she'd have to wait until the right moment. Attacking so suddenly would be a death wish.

Pursing her lips, Netta curled her fingers slightly, her nails glimmered somewhat in the dim lighting. They curled inwards the further out they went, and the tips were so sharp Netta felt a shiver run up her spine. Those pointed ends were responsible for countless animal deaths, experimentation, and even the loss of a human life. H.Y.D.R.A. made the young Inhuman do things she was in no way proud of. She was forced to endure what they believed was "necessary" for her. Nothing Netta was forced to endure was in any was reasonable or acceptable. Forced captivity couldn't be legal. Forced experimentation couldn't be legal. Did the Austrian authorities know of what was going on? Even if Netta _wasn't_ in Austria, didn't _any_ form of law enforcement know of H.Y.D.R.A.'s schemes? It was baffling, how such unlawful occurrences, such horrific experiences, could go over everyone's heads. In Netta's mind, it didn't make any sense.

Shaking her head, the young woman tried to push those thoughts out of her head. She'd focus on them at a later time. Retracting her nails, Netta paid her arms at her side, trying to figure out what she could do to pass the time. She'd decided to put her scaling practice on hold for the time being, and there really wasn't much she could do with her poison in the meantime. Sure, she could practice extending and retracting her nails and teeth, but that was about it. It hadn't even been long into Netta's plan to escape, and she was starting to realize just how useless she was. The Terrigenesis could've granted her more useful abilities. She would've given _anything_ to trade her powers in for something else. Telekinesis, telepathy — whatever, just as long as it caused actual damage and was essential in helping her escape unharmed. That was one of Netta's main pet-peeves. Sadly, it was one she'd have to deal with for, seemingly, the rest of her life. Fantastic.* Were there any positive attributes to toxin immunity and poison release? Sure, if Netta was up to do more of an upfront kind of fighting. H.Y.D.R.A. didn't do a whole lot of fighting practice with her, however. They were more focused on her Inhuman status. But wasn't Eckhardt planning on letting Netta train? So she'd be able to learn basic fighting techniques and how to handle assailants? That would be useful. That would _definitely_ be something useful!

Tapping her fingers on the ground, Netta let out a huff as she nodded in conclusion. Maybe she wouldn't have to use her previously thought-out plan. If she'd be given the opportunity to train and learn how to fight, then she'd have to plan an attack once she gained enough skill. Obviously, something like that would take time. The only downside was that Netta wasn't sure how long it would _take_. But there were also the people she'd have to go up against. H.Y.D.R.A. was not one to sugarcoat anything, which meant they'd send out the strongest and most brutal fighters first. That was something Netta believed would happen. She'd be forced to fight the top-notch H.Y.D.R.A. fighter, someone who was probably trained to _kill_. Hell, there was no doubt in Netta's mind that her opponent probably killed countless people before. It was a terrifying thought, but it was something she'd have to deal with. She _had_ to stay strong! If she allowed herself to get scared, then she'd have a clouded mind. Clouded minds led to mistakes and mistakes led in serious injury or death. Netta couldn't afford that. Her freedom was on the line. Her _life_ was on the line.

"Keep calm," she murmured, tapping her fingers on the cold floor beneath her. "Just keep it together. You've got this."

Wasn't that a nice thought, though? Being able to stay calm and keep it together. It gave Netta the reassurance she felt she deserved. The hope that, if she stayed as submissive as H.Y.D.R.A. wanted, then she'd be rewarded in some way. Of course, Netta's reward would be her dwindling confidence. She'd try and assure herself that her freedom was worthwhile, that she earned to be out in the world again. All she had to do was keep calm and keep it together. It would all work out in the end.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

"Sir, we've detected something." Randall Eckhardt's brows furrowed. _Detected_ something? Did it have anything to do with the subjects? They were all kept in solitary confinement. They were monitored 24/7. How could there be a problem? So when Eckhardt walked over to one of the agents, he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a heavy breath.

"What is it?" he grumbled.

"Receivers managed to pick up an encrypted message not that long ago." The agent turned away from her computer to look at Eckhardt with a deep frown. "It was almost impossible to pick up on, but there was a small trace of it found. Whoever sent it, they somehow managed to mess up covering their tracks."

"Who was it sent to?"

"If my suspicions are correct, I'd say it was sent to S.H.I.E.L.D."

Eckhardt's frown deepened. Anyone associated with S.H.I.E.L.D. believed themselves to be good people, the one thing that protected the world from H.Y.D.R.A.'s "corruption". Nick Fury, the director of that blasted homeland security group, seemed to be under the impression that he was always one-step ahead of the dastardly plans H.Y.D.R.A. seemed to have, but in all honesty, there was something else going on. Not long after WWII's conclusion, Arnim Zola, who'd been captured by the Allies, had been forced to join the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Thankfully, Zola was able to help rebuild H.Y.D.R.A. in the shadows, providing useful information he gathered from the SSR. In a matter of years, H.Y.D.R.A. redeveloped, growing exceedingly fast, and managed to help drive the world into chaos. Wars, terrorist organizations, weapons distributions, the list could go on. H.Y.D.R.A. worked within S.H.I.E.L.D., going unnoticed for decades. Sleeper moles were placed in every outpost, every little crevice that made up H.Y.D.R.A.'s one enemy.

However, things seemed to shift a little when it came to a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent infiltrating H.Y.D.R.A. headquarters. The Austrian branch was known for the experimentation of specific subjects. If a sleeper mole found its way in, then that meant all of the precious research gathered over the years would be in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s databases. That wasn't good. Not at all.

"Find out who sent the message," Eckhardt exclaimed. "Once they're in custody, bring them to me. I'd like to have a word with them."

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Sorry for the wait on this chapter, but I hope you guys like it. I feel as though this one is really sloppy, but I'll leave that up for you guys. If you've got constructive criticism, leave a review or PM me. I'd like to know what you guys think. Sadly, I haven't been receiving a lot of feedback, which means I don't really know what I can do to improve this story. The one thing I've noticed is there's a pattern of repetitiveness, I'm trying to work on it, but it's been a little difficult. Just leave your thoughts, OK?**

 **Nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and the laptop I'm using right now. If you've got ideas for subplots or OCs, PM me or leave a review. I'll try and add your ideas in as soon as possible.**

 **Like I mentioned before, leave constructive criticism where you think it's due. I won't know how to improve the story if I don't get any feedback. This story is something I'm writing for fun, and I'd like it to be fun for you guys, too.**

 **On that note, be sure to spread some love today, guys.**

 **Tillie Blue**


	7. Chapter 7

_What you sippin' on that got you talking crazy?_

 _Lookin' at me sideways, always coming at me_  
 _Why you, why you acting hard when you just a baby?_  
 _Boy, I keep it real with you, but you trying to play me_

-No Excuses; **by Meghan Trainor**

* * *

Things were definitely starting to pick up for S.H.I.E.L.D. Fury and Romanoff were trying to help with Stark, Coulson was being shipped off to New Mexico to investigate an 0-8-4, tabs were being kept on Captain Rogers as he adapted to modern times all the while specialists tried to pinpoint Banner's location. Fury was trying to put together a team, and it was hard to do that if one of the strongest potential members was able to stay out of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar. But when news came around about H.Y.D.R.A.'s experiments on Inhumans, things started to shift. The known world was not familiar with this new group of individuals. Typically, an Inhuman was able to blend in with the average human being. Whether or not they underwent physical changes after Terrigenesis was really hard to determine.* In all honesty, S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't even heard of the Inhuman community before. Fury seemed to be the only one who had an _idea_ on what they were. So when Fury decided Coulson should be the one to take H.Y.D.R.A.'s favorite, little test subject into custody after her removal, it came off as a shock. What would the Inhuman be like? What kind of abilities would the subject have? Would it be unstable? Would it be prone to violent outbursts? Was it in any way like Banner, its powers connected to emotions? S.H.I.E.L.D. did not know what they were going up against.

Regardless, Coulson found himself a bit fascinated on the idea of Inhumans. He'd never encountered one before — at least he didn't _think_ so — and knowing he'd be assisting in breaking one out of H.Y.D.R.A.'s clutches made him a little giddy. Almost like a kid in a candy store. Would the Inhuman have any outward physical changes? Was something like that even _possible_? There were a lot of questions Coulson wanted the answers to, but he knew they'd never be answered until the subject was in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody. The only problem would be figuring out a way to break the subject out. With Coulson heading down to New Mexico to investigate an 0-8-4, that meant he was limited in what he could do. He wasn't supposed to leave until the unidentified object was confirmed to be non-lethal, and afterward registered in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s databases. Not only that, but Fury had given Phil a handful of agents, analysts, and hackers. On top of that, Clint Barton was sent along for added protection. Barton was one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s assassins, having been given the name _Hawkeye_ for never missing a single shot. Pair him up with Romanoff, and they're an unstoppable force. Natasha had made a name for herself, as well. Known as the _Black_ _Widow_ , she was a former Russian killer who made her way on Fury's list of people to eliminate. Barton was supposed to kill her, but he chose to let her live and redeem herself. Their bond after that day was unbreakable.

But maybe Clint's assistance could help in retrieving the Inhuman. He never missed a shot, and he was good at long-distance attacking. The guy was skilled in archery, the bow and arrow being his preferred weapon in battle. It's only after he runs out of arrows that he uses guns and other weapons. So maybe Coulson did have a bit of an advantage when it came to H.Y.D.R.A.

"You OK, Coulson?" Clint looked at the older man with a hint of curiosity. The duo, plus the agents, analysts, and hackers, were on a Quinjet over to New Mexico. It was going to be a long flight, and that meant distractions had to be in place. Having to sit and wait for God knows how long would have driven even the most sane person mad.

"I'm fine." The older man threw a smile Barton's way. That was something fairly common when it came to Coulson. He always seemed have a smile on his face, regardless of the situation. It was odd for some, unnerving for others, but refreshing for a few. "How're you holding up?"

With a shrug, Barton started inspecting his arrows. "I'm good," he responded, sounding nonchalant.

Nodding in response, Coulson leaned back on his seat, his mind wandering a bit. He needed to figure out a strategy to break the Inhuman out of H.Y.D.R.A.'s custody. He was also trying to figure out what the 0-8-4 was. Typically, when an unidentifiable object comes into Earth's atmosphere, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s first response is to check it out. The only thing that makes it difficult is not knowing whether the object will cause bodily harm to the agents or to the surrounding area. That was why Coulson was trying to figure out whether the 0-8-4 was, whether the men and women under his command would face any kind of harm once they made contact.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Rhiannon had been pleased to find out that Fury responded to her message. She'd been trying to figure out any additional information on the subjects, particularly the fan-favorite, but H.Y.D.R.A. did a good job at keeping it confidential. Due to H.Y.D.R.A.'s need to heavily encrypt everything, and to make it nearly impossible to get in, it took Rhiannon a while to finally maneuver her way through. She managed to find countless files for each subject. There had to be hundreds. Swallowing thickly, Rhiannon adjusted her glasses before checking the door behind her. She was taking so many risks, but she knew it was beneficial for S.H.I.E.L.D. She'd been sent undercover to gain information on H.Y.D.R.A.'s Austrian branch. She was supposed to send any useful information to Fury, and it took her months to even _know_ what was really going on. All Rhiannon could really say was that she did feel a wave of relief when Eckhardt told her of the Inhuman experiments.

Quickly taking out a USB drive, Rhiannon connected it to the computer. She didn't download anything just yet, just looking through the files to see which one could be the Inhuman Eckhardt was talking about. Each file Rhiannon went through showed vague background information, along with a photo ID of the subject. The order of the files were in alphabetical order, which mean the young S.H.I.E.L.D. operative would have to be quick in her inspections. She knew that with each passing minute, she'd be closer to exposing herself. Taking a shaky breath, Rhiannon _prayed_ she got what she needed quickly.

When Rhiannon finally made her way to the M's, she clicked on a file labeled MACFARLAND. Once the information came up, recognition filled the young woman. It was the subject Eckhardt was talking about. The young woman had olive colored skin, green eyes, and brown hair. Rhiannon did some added work and made sure the file was downloaded into the USB. She'd be able to connect the little device to a little apparatus provided by S.H.I.E.L.D., which would be able to send the gathered information easily. While the download was occurring, Rhiannon chose to read up a little on the Inhuman Fury was so curious about and the subject Eckhardt was so proud of. Her name was Antoinette Macfarland, born January 13, 1988. She barely stood over five-feet, and her file stated she had complete immunity to all toxins known to man. On top of that, Antoinette could also produce poison from her body, which could be released through her fingernails, saliva, and teeth. Rhiannon found that to be incredible. To be able to _produce_ poison from the body? That had to be a very useful ability. And to be immune to all known toxins? How fascinating was _that_? Rhiannon managed to find a few notes that had been uploaded by H.Y.D.R.A. officials, but she didn't really pay much attention to those. She knew Fury would go over them once he got the file. Once all of it was sent, the only thing that remained was waiting for the cavalry to arrive.

Rhiannon could _not_ wait to get out of H.Y.D.R.A.

Unfortunately, her desire would amplify once an alarm went off. The computer froze almost halfway through downloading the file. Rhiannon's heart dropped and a lump formed in her throat.

" _Shit_ ," she hissed.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

"What do you _mean_ someone hacked into our systems?" Eckhardt roared. The heavyset man stormed around the room, his face a deep red. The very _idea_ of having an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in his branch infuriated him. Just how long had this mole been operating under his command? Going unnoticed for so long? What information had been provided to that damn Nick Fury? Eckhardt liked to pride himself as a competent H.Y.D.R.A. official, one who never overlooked an issue. But he knew that once word went around he failed to notice a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, he'd probably be demoted. Hell, he might be _eliminated_. He'd worked too hard for _too_ _long_ to get where he was. There was no way on God's green Earth Eckhardt was about to lose his position to some _agent_.

"Someone's downloading a file from our systems as we speak." A H.Y.D.R.A. analyst was typing as fast as he could, trying to intervene the hack.

"Which file?!" Eckhardt barked.

"Macfarland's." The analyst turned to look at his superior for a moment before looking back at his computer. "It's almost halfway completed."

Seething, the heavyset man grabbed the analyst's walkie-talkie and clicked it on. "There's a mole in our facility," he roared. "All available security are to investigate _immediately_. Once they're in your custody, _bring_ _them_ _to_ _me_."

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **What'd you think? Give constructive criticism where you think it's due.**

 **Nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, the subplots I put in, and the bed I sleep on. If you've got ideas for OCs or subplots, PM me or leave a review.**

 **Be sure to spread some love today, guys!**

 **Tillie Blue**


	8. Chapter 8

_"Sometimes life is like this tunnel. You can't always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you keep moving, you'll come to a better place."_

-Iroh; **from Avatar: The Last Airbender** (2006)

* * *

At the sound of the alarms going off, Netta scrambled clumsily to her feet. Her heart was beating painfully in her chest, her breathing starting to quicken. In the young Inhuman's mind, she was panicking. Why were there alarms going off? Was it something Eckhardt was behind? Was it a test? Were there intruders? Was someone trying to _escape_? Netta's mind seemed to be running a mile a minute, and she wasn't sure how to really think or feel. Had one of the H.Y.D.R.A. officials found out about her plans to escape? It wouldn't be possible, since she hadn't voiced them. But what if there was a mind-reader, a telepath, who discovered and reported Netta's ideas. The very _thought_ that something like that could happen made her blood run cold. She couldn't afford anything bad happening to her, even if she had nothing to lose. But on the other hand, why would H.Y.D.R.A. choose to make such a big deal out of such a little thing? Netta couldn't understand that. If there was really a telepath in H.Y.D.R.A.'s ranks, and if her plans had been discovered, then wouldn't any extraction plan be done discretely?

Swallowing thickly, Netta could only pray no one came by her cell. The last thing she wanted was to find out she'd be terminated for just _thinking_ of escaping.

Sadly, however, the distant sounds of running and shouting caused the young Inhuman to feel even antsier. Her fingers were angled and she unconsciously extended her nails. If people were going to be raiding her cell, or doing whatever to _her_ , then she'd at least be ready to fight. That was what Netta wanted to do, right? To fight for her freedom? She'd do what was absolutely necessary to enforce that belief. But she still had no idea on what was going on.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Rhiannon was panicking. As in, _full-on_ panic attack. With her download freezing and the sirens going off, she knew H.Y.D.R.A. had found out about her. Or, at least _discovered_ a mole in their ranks. All Rhiannon wanted to do was figure out a way to complete her download before any agents came in, but she knew that'd be impossible. Her computer wasn't responding to her, so she could only assume it'd been frozen by another party. She couldn't send a message out to S.H.I.E.L.D. without drawing more attention to herself. In all honesty, Rhiannon couldn't do much of _anything_ without drawing attention to herself. It scared the _hell_ out of her.*

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Going over to her cell door, Netta peered through the small window. She could see security guards running around, weapons in hand while shouting orders. The alarms were still going on, which, at that point, was giving the young Inhuman a headache.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Netta tapping her fingers on the metal door, her nails letting out little _clinking_ noises. She needed to catch a guard's attention. She needed to know what was going on. Letting out a sigh, she retracted the nails on one hand and slammed a fist on the glass window. If she could get even _one_ guard's attention, then she'd be able to figure out where her plan went from there. For all she knew, Netta could even convince the guard to let her out of her cell. She'd been nothing but cooperative with H.Y.D.R.A. since her capture, they'd have to do _some_ thing for her, right? It was really a guessing game, one that Netta already knew the answer to. No one who worked for H.Y.D.R.A. was known for being merciful, so the young Inhuman knew she'd have to do what she could for herself.

Letting out a huff, she started slamming her hand on the door, hoping it'd be loud enough to catch a guard's attention. Catching even _one_ guard's attention would be a relief. All Netta would have to do is question them long enough to figure out additional information. And, if she got lucky enough, annoy one long enough for them to try and enter her cell. So she continued slamming her hand on the door, peaking through the small window, her nerves buzzing and her skin crawling anxiously.*

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Considering her limited options, Rhiannon knew it'd be in her best interest to cover her tracks to the best of her abilities. So that meant yanking the USB drive out, disconnecting the computer, and shoving any and all personal or S.H.I.E.L.D. items into a small purse she brought with her. Rhiannon knew with absolute certainty she'd be found out one day, she just didn't think it'd happen so soon. For the young woman, she felt a mixture of fear and relief; though the fear did outweigh the relief. It's not _every_ day someone gets the opportunity to try and save their skin from an organization of powerhungry sociopaths.

When the sounds of shouts and footfalls came echoing down the hallway, however, Rhiannon knew she was in big trouble. She'd have to figure out an escape plan before any security guards found her. There was no way in hell Rhiannon wanted to be a H.Y.D.R.A. prisoner. Not when she had a job to do. Being a mole was definitely not the kind of S.H.I.E.L.D. job the young woman would've signed up for, but she couldn't argue when it came from Fury's mouth. His word was pretty much law in some aspects, even if not everyone agreed with it. Fury knew what needed to be done, and anyone who opposed him would be out of their mind. That was how Rhiannon saw it. And while she did have some oppositions on his decision to work her undercover, she knew she'd have to do it. Rhiannon _just_ got herself a decent position in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ranks, she couldn't jeopardize it over a little disagreement.

But in that moment, in the Austrian branch with the sirens going off, Rhiannon knew she should've voiced her concerns. She wasn't a skilled fighter, not like Romanoff or Barton. Hell, she could barely fire a gun at the best of times. The only reason Rhiannon made it as far as she did was because of her intellect. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s need for intelligent people meant they'd go for anyone — rather, very specific anyone — who showed an ounce of smarts in any given topic. Rhiannon had some computer smarts, she had knowledge on specific things S.H.I.E.L.D. found useful, and her resourcefulness made her an asset to the organization.

Letting out a shaky breath. Rhiannon knew she'd have to figure something out if she was going to escape unharmed.

Then a thought popped into her head.

 **-0-0-0-0-**

Netta was relieved when a female guard stopped by her door, a look of agitation on the woman's face. It was obvious the guard wasn't in the mood to be dealing with any uncooperative subjects. In Netta's mind, however, she could've cared less about the guard's feelings. Living outside the cells, being able to come and go without any issues, it seemed like a dream come true. And now that Netta managed to get one to her cell, all she had to do was lure the unsuspecting woman inside.

"What's going on out there?" Netta shouted, pretending to try and peer around the guard. "I was supposed to see Dr. Fitzsimmons for a check-up today."

"That is _none_ of your concern." The guard slammed a fist on Netta's door, causing the young Inhuman to flinch back. "You need to _stand_ _down_ ; do you understand me?"

"But I'm _supposed_ to see Fitzsimmons. This damn alarm's giving me a headache, so maybe I can get some pain meds, too."

"Do you not understand what I'm telling you?" Once again, the guard slammed her fist on the door. Netta flinched again, but she was determined to stick to her plan. "You are to stand down, freak. This is none of your concern."

Peering through the little window again, Netta saw the guard turning to leave. Thinking quick, she spurted the first thing that came to mind, "I'm going to kill you."

The guard paused, and in that moment the young woman knew there was no turning back. The guard had heard, which meant everything would either go really well or horribly wrong. And the last thing Netta wanted was for things to go horribly wrong.

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Sorry for the wait on this chapter, but I hope you guys can overlook that. Let me know if anything needs any improvement. Constructive criticism is always welcome!**

 **Nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and the shoes I wear on my feet. If you've got ideas for OCs or subplots, PM me or leave a review. I'll be sure to add them in as soon as I possibly can.**

 **Be sure to spread some love today, guys!**

 **Tillie Blue**


	9. Chapter 9

_Baby, you're the highlight of my lowlife_  
 _Take a shitty day and make it alright, yeah, alright_  
 _Oh, in every circumstance_  
 _Yeah, you make the difference_  
 _Baby, you're the highlight of my lowlife, lowlife_

-Lowlife; **by Poppy**

* * *

In Netta's time at H.Y.D.R.A., she never uttered a single _word_ to the guards. She made it her goal to not even look their way. That was how much power and intimidation they held over her. And it was to Netta's understanding that, in H.Y.D.R.A., the guards handled all kinds of problems that arose. An unruly subject or operative? A guard would come in and straighten them out. A spy was discovered within H.Y.D.R.A.'s ranks? The guards would handle that problem with ease. Netta came to fear them. The entire time she'd been under H.Y.D.R.A.'s supervision, she'd done everything in her power to be the submissive, little test subject. She wouldn't draw attention to herself, she wouldn't talk unless given permission — Netta was going to ensure her safety was her number one priority. She wanted to preserve herself by any means necessary. But she could go only so far before it started to wear her down. Netta had done _every_ thing she could think of to keep herself alive. Obedience, silence, handing over her life to a bunch of sociopaths. She'd _had_ it. So, when that alarm went off, she saw her opportunity to escape. And it seemed threatening to kill a security guard would give her that opportunity. All she had to do was avoid any gunfire, and she'd be scot free.

And the guard? The one Netta threatened to kill? She did hear those words escape the Inhuman's mouth. It left the subject feeling both empowered _and_ terrified. She had finally used her voice against the people who'd left her petrified. She did have some power over them, which was so _amazing_. Netta Macfarland would show she was more than some lowly H.Y.D.R.A. science experiment; she was a living, breathing person. She had the potential to be the person she was _supposed_ to be.

Once the guard was close enough to the door, Netta took a step back, her nails extended about as far as they could go. She'd do anything in her power to ensure her survival. And for about a split second, a thought flashed through Netta's mind — why not use the scales? They could help her in case the guard decided to shoot. But the idea was scratched. Netta didn't have enough control over that power quite yet. She needed a certain level of concentration to use that ability, and she only just got it to cover _one_ hand. There was no way in hell Netta was going to use that ability so soon. She didn't have enough time to prepare, and she _definitely_ didn't think she'd get herself covered enough by the time the guard chose to use her guns. So by the time her cell door was unlocked, Netta took a defensive stance. Or as defensive as she could get. She wasn't a skilled fighter. She had no experience with weapons or hand-to-hand combat. At no point in Netta's life did she think she'd have to face off with someone who probably had _years_ of practice and experience. That thought didn't even flutter through her mind for a _second_ before she made that comment to the guard.

When her door started opening, Netta swallowed thickly. She had to keep herself ready for anything. Would the guard shoot on sight? Hopefully not. Would she try and engage in some kind of combat? Netta certainly hoped so. Once the door was completely open, and the Inhuman could see the guard's enraged face, her blood ran cold. She'd never seen a look like that on anyone's face before, and it made her feel even _more_ anxious. Netta knew that if she allowed herself to linger more on how she felt than on surviving her current situation, then she'd be in big trouble. The idea of being killed was one that fluttered through her mind more than once, but the thought of being severely injured and taken to the H.Y.D.R.A. upperclass made her shiver. Neither of those options were ones Netta wanted to deal with. But when the guard started to slowly walk forward, Netta found herself taking small steps back. She knew the guard was probably looking for any means of intimidation, trying to look for the upperhand in some way. As if she had to really _try_ in that regard. The guard's hands were firmly on her machine gun, her shoulders tense, ready to fire at any given moment. Her blue eyes glittered angrily, regarding Netta with disgust and aggravation.

"Did you just _threaten_ me?" The sound of utter entitlement and distaste in the guard's voice made Netta swallow thickly. "Let me ask you again: Did you just _threaten_ me?"

"Yes. I did." Netta's fingers curled and extended, her emotions becoming a whirlwind of a mess. "What're you gonna do about it?"

The guard's eyes flashed with rage. Her machine gun was aimed at the Inhuman in no time, a finger restlessly sitting on the trigger. "I can kill you right now," she hissed. "Right where you stand. You think you're so special? There're millions of other Inhumans out there. Millions of other subjects who have _potential_. Poison extraction, toxin immunity — I don't get why that makes you better than our other subjects."

"Are you _really_ going to kill me?" Netta replied, her voice low. "How would you explain that to Eckhardt? I'm his precious little experiment. I'm sure he'd have your head for even _considering_ my murder."

"Trust me, he'd have the footage." The guard's eyes went to the camera in the corner. "You're not as sweet and obedient as you've been letting on. Maybe your powers really do suit you — a sneaky, little snake."

A smile came across Netta's face, albeit a forced one. If the guard wanted to continue with some banter, then she'd go along with it. The longer it kept her alive, the better. All she had to do was get the guard closer, and she'd have finished her mission. "You know, the one thing that makes me better than you _are_ my powers," Netta said. "I don't have to rely on guns or other weapons. My _body_ is all I need." The guard's face scrunched up, her body tensing even more. "You're just a human. What makes you think you're better than me? I have the potential to be so much more."

"That's _enough_!" The guard took a step forward, her eyes blazing. "Not another word out of you."

"Are you gonna shoot me?" Netta's brows shot up. "Just think of what Eckhardt would say. He'd be _pissed_ , wouldn't he?" The guard's breathing started to labor, her lips pursing and jaw setting. "What would happen to _you_ if Eckhardt found out what you did? You'd be terminated. Either you live or you die, isn't that how it works with H.Y.D.R.A.?"

"Shut up."

"Why don't you tell me something," Netta continued, "are you really willing to risk your own life because of _me_?" The guard closed her eyes for a moment, squeezing them for a split second. Using that chance to slowly inch forward, Netta tried to find an opportunity to surprise the guard. "Why don't you let me out and I won't let anything happen?"

"No." The guard took her own defensive stance, her blue eyes shining with defiance, with still a hint of anger behind them, her gun still aimed firmly at Netta. "You're not getting through me."

Stopping, Netta eyes narrowed slightly. "You're obviously of importance to H.Y.D.R.A.," she commented. "You can go figure out what's caused these godforsaken alarms to go off and let me go. I won't _do_ anything. Do you understand _me_?" Movement over the guard's shoulder caused Netta to flicker over to where it was. It was a young woman, not dressed in security uniform. She had glasses — thick looking ones, at that — and an all black outfit. Black jeans, long-sleeved black shirt, black jacket, and a dark-grey purse. The other woman's eyes were wide with what looked like disbelief. Immediately, Netta's eyes went back to the guard.

"Do you think I'm _that_ stupid?" the guard barked. "I'm not letting you out! I'm going to take care of you..."

Before she had the chance to finish what she was saying, there was a loud thud. The guard looked startled for a second, maybe even disoriented, but caught herself and turned. The woman in the hallway was standing just inches behind the guard, and Netta could see the woman's eyes looking mortified, as if she couldn't believe what she'd just done. Right as the guard lifted her gun at the other woman, Netta let out a silent curse and lunged towards the guard. Just enough skin on the enemy's neck was exposed for a, hopefully, lethal blow.* In that moment, Netta came to realize her plan did not go at _all_ like she'd planned.

* * *

 **(A/N):**

 **Let me know what you guys think! If you think certain areas need improvement, PM me or leave a review. Constructive criticism is always welcome.**

 **Nothing in the MCU belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and an enjoyment for coffee. If you guys have OCs or subplots that you'd like written into the story, PM me or leave a review. I'll add it in as soon as possible.**

 **Be sure to spread some love today, guys!**

 **Tillie Blue**


End file.
